And There He Was
by jibblesandwich
Summary: Kurt Hummel finds himself in a life or death situation on Thanksgiving when the market he's at becomes the hot spot for an armed burglar. Kurt, however, finds himself in luck when the courageous cashier Blaine Anderson saves his life after nearly being shot. Kurt is then set on getting to know this boy who saved his life, not at all realizing he was about to do the exact same.


**__****A/N: **This is by no means my first time writing fan fiction. I actually used to write fan fictions when I was probably too small to even know what I was doing, especially because it was for the show Degrassi. This is also not my first Klaine fan fiction, but the other one kind of died when season four started. But anyways, this is just an idea that came into my mind for a story. Originally I intended this to be what would eventually become my first real novel attempt. (Big dreams, I have big dreams.) I then decided that it would be best for me to write something I could actually get feedback for. So it has now become a Glee, Klaine, fan fiction piece. This is the first chapter of what will hopefully turn out to be a full-length story. Hope you enjoy, and please please please share opinions on whether or not you'd want to read more!

**CHAPTER ONE**

The first star took its place in the sky just outside the downtown lights. The night was awfully warm for late November. Usually when Kurt Hummel's dad told him to leave the house with a jacket and he didn't listen, Burt ended up being right and he freezes faster than the arctic. Not this time. Anyone else would think that this night was one in the middle of the summer with the heat waves at their peak.

Kurt placed his earphones inside his ears, turned on the sounds of sweet despair, and looked forward at the street in front of him. The corner market was straight ahead. He could see the small electric sign that read "OPEN" as he got closer and closer. He had his doubts that it would even be open on Thanksgiving, but his dad was right about something tonight.

He stepped into the store and the familiar bell rang. He never liked doors that had sounds attached to them when opened. Bringing attention to himself was the last thing he wanted to do. Kurt much preferred to stay under the radar.

"If you need help finding anything just let me know." Kurt heard a voice say with disinterest.

He didn't really pay attention to who it was. He also couldn't wrap his mind around why anyone would take a work shift on a holiday that most people spent at home celebrating. Kurt decided that it wasn't his place to make a judgment. If anything, he did slightly admire that sort of work ethic. His own was nothing like that.

If only he had refused when they forced him to come here…

The first gunshot sent Kurt into a state of shock. He ripped the music playing out his ears. The store was small enough that Kurt could've sworn the noise kept on going even when it was over. He dropped down to the dirt-filled ground. A single tear shed from his left eye and his body began to tremble uncontrollably. This was going to be the night he said goodbye.

There weren't many people inside the market, it was Thanksgiving after all. The only reason Kurt was even there was because his family insisted on needing milk before they broke out all the pies. Kurt ended up being commanded to walk down to the store since he was the youngest, and that automatically made him powerless in half the decisions of his life. Sadly no one knew at the time that they just may have ended the life of someone who barely even lived.

He continued to cradle himself trying his best not to make any noise. Things became silent after a while. Kurt did everything to convince himself that it was over, or maybe nothing even happened in the first place. Maybe the television by the check-out station just so happened to turn its volume up really loud during some scene in an action movie and then shut off after the sound of a gun firing.

"I picked the perfect time to have an optimistic attitude." he thought.

Kurt began to crawl slowly towards the exit, and as he did he saw the faces of other shoppers in hiding. There was a man dressed in a vest and fisherman's hat, no older than Kurt's own grandfather cowering behind a pile stacked high with crackers. A blonde woman sat crying with no worry at all of being heard. This surely was not how any of them planned on spending the night of Thanksgiving, and it surely was not how they imagined the last moments of their lives.

In each and every eye there was a visible sign of terror that could not be ignored. They were all helpless.

"Kid you need to stay down!" the old man whispered with urgency.

"I can't just sit here. I need to go. I need to get out."

"You're going to get us all killed!" the woman cried out.

"At the rate this is going, we're already dead."

"Don't give up hope! Now stay down!"

He knew that they were right, what he was doing was stupid and reckless. Kurt couldn't even begin to explain what was going on inside his head, but he didn't want this to be it for him. The only solution was to escape from this hell hole.

"If I promised not to call the police, would the shooter let me free?"

His knees began to ache from keeping them so firmly to the ground. His hands were covered in filth from the floor that had no doubt been left unclean for many months. Kurt needed to somehow get out and escape. Kurt needed to rush home. He wondered if anyone had called the cops already, and if the store had any sort of alarm to sound for this kind of situation.

Kurt was mere inches away from the door when he saw him, the man with the gun. A ski mask covered his face and a large black leather jacket wrapped around his upper body. His appearance was so cliché it was almost laughable. How could anyone so easily be able to just take away the life of another person? Kurt's stomach felt sick at the thought.

The robber held his gun facing the young boy running the cash register. Kurt knew this boy. He recognized his face from school, his name was Blaine Anderson. Blaine held his hands up as if to show he was no threat to the robber. He was much shorter than the man he was at risk of dying by. Blaine's face became pale. The barrel of the gun had been placed directly to his forehead.

There was a moment in Kurt's heart where he wanted to help him. He wanted to jump up from the ground and pounce on the man who was terrorizing them all, but he didn't have the slightest bit of courage to do so. The only thing on his mind was the escape.

A few more silent steps of crawling, and Kurt managed to reach the door unnoticed. His hand reached out to open it and the moment he made the effort to pull the knob the bell connected to it rang. That damned bell. It was that bell he never truly knew the purpose of until now, as a signal to when someone enters.

"How could I not have known that?"

Kurt didn't know what possessed him to believe that he could get away. He didn't know what he was thinking by opening that door. He figured would've been better off still hiding behind the cereal aisle, but he was too afraid.

"What do you think you're doing?" the man in the ski mask rushed towards Kurt pointing the gun in his direction, finger ready to pull the trigger.

Kurt closed his eyes.

The second shot set off right in front of him followed by the sounds of shattered glass. His ears become foggy with the sounds of high-pitched static. His mind went numb, and his body didn't make a single move. Kurt didn't want to open his eyes and see what had happened. He couldn't feel anything. He didn't want to see blood or a wound or any indication that he was fatally injured.

Kurt began to wonder what getting shot even felt like. Was he supposed to feel pain? Maybe he was already dead. Maybe this was him as entered into the world above that apparently many people knew as Heaven, or for all he knew he was going down to the depths of Hell. Suddenly Kurt heard the sound of sirens, the sound of cars abruptly braking and the smell of burning rubber found its way to his nostrils.

"Sir, are you okay?" someone spoke.

Kurt felt people beginning to lift him from the ground. Finally he made the attempt to open his eyes. The lights of the store were intense and shined brighter than any flash of light he'd ever seen. As his eyes adjusted he was able to make out what was going on.

He didn't get shot. He wasn't touched. There were no physical injuries, but whether or not he had any mental ones had yet to be determined.

The group of three officers forcefully shoved a man in handcuffs out the door Kurt was standing by. It was the robber. He'd been unmasked to show an untidy set of orange hair. His face was one filled with frustration and disappointment.

"You don't get it. I have a family to feed!" it was the same voice yelling that had scared him shitless just a few minutes ago. "My kids need me!"

Standing back by the cash register was Blaine. He talked to a policeman, trying to explain the events of the night. Kurt walked towards Blaine to listen in on his report. He didn't seem to remember a thing passed almost being shot at.

"He was running towards him like a maniac. I guess he forgot about me completely, so I went up from behind him and just tackled him. By the time we hit the floor he'd already set off a shot, but luckily it just hit the door." Blaine seemed flustered.

"Alright thank you very much. If we need anything else from you we'll keep in contact." The officer began to head back to the rest of his group. "Be thankful. This young man saved your life." He spoke in a stern voice while looking at Kurt.

Blaine Anderson saved Kurt Hummel's life. He was the reason Kurt was still breathing at the moment. Kurt began to think that somehow Blaine had the strength to do exactly what he couldn't. At the risk of his own life he chose to try and keep Kurt from getting hurt. The thought became overwhelming. As much as it brought Kurt relief, it also made him feel slightly regretful. Blaine's courage was just another thing to envy about him.

"I want to ask 'how are you,' but it seems like kind of stupid question right now." Blaine scoffed at his own words.

"I guess I'm just in awe right now. Did you really tackle that guy?"

"Well yeah. I saw the opportunity so I just took it without really a thought."

"I don't think I could ever do that."

"An adrenaline rush could take you a long ways."

Suddenly Kurt's emotions began to slip. The tears began pouring out his eyes with little to no warning. Kurt let himself go and fell right into the embrace of the boy who saved him.

"I don't know how I'm supposed to thank you."

"Don't think about that right now." Blaine held Kurt in his arms and began caressing the back of his head.

The kindness that was shown took Kurt by surprise. They didn't know each other, yet here he was finding comfort in Blaine's grasp and he seemed to be completely okay with that.

"But…" Kurt struggled to find the right words.

"But nothing. Go home Kurt. Relax. It's alright."

"You know my name?"

"Don't act so shocked." As Blaine released his arms from around Kurt, another police officer approached.

"Do you two need us to drive you home?" the officer asked.

"No I just live down the…" Kurt got cut off.

"He'll need a ride. I should probably stay behind and get this place cleaned up to close." Blaine interrupted.

Kurt didn't say anything else. He didn't want to argue, but he also didn't want to arrive home on Thanksgiving inside of a police car.

"Do you have a phone I could use? I'll just call my dad to come get me. I forgot my cell at home. My family is probably wondering where I am."

Blaine directed him towards the phone behind the counter. He dialed the number to the house phone, and without a second ring Burt answered.

"Kurt?" his dad sounded panicked.

"Hey dad."

"Where are you? You've been gone for over half an hour and the store is only a five minute walk. Why haven't you been picking up your cell phone? Are you okay?"

"Dad don't worry I'm okay, luckily."

"What do you mean luckily?"

"I sort of… Almost got shot. Don't worry though. I didn't get hurt. The gunman was arrested. I just need you to pick me up." Kurt felt another round of tears coming.

"I'll be there in a minute son. Hang tight."

The line went dead.


End file.
